


On a date with Undyne with no umbrella

by morefishplease



Series: Comfy Fish Stories [11]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Cute, Dresses, F/M, Rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 14:52:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10573551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morefishplease/pseuds/morefishplease
Summary: What it says in the title. Due to having originally been written and posted for a different site most of my stories' titles are just descriptions of the story, and I'm too lazy to make up meaningful titles for everything.





	

So when we get home…” she says, trailing off, raising an eyebrow at you. You look up, set your glass down gently, try hard to keep the smile from flicking across your lips.

“When we get home what?”

Undyne shrugs. You swear that when you look at her the background noise of the restaurant dulls to a quiet whisper and all you can hear is the throbbing of your heart pounding through your ears. She’s wearing that red and white dress that she knows you like (she winked at you when you stuck your head into the bathroom while she was putting it on, raised it thigh-high. “I shaved,” she said, toothy grin / heart melting) and she has her hair back in a loose bun. She keeps blowing one errant tuft back from over her eye and you reach out, tuck it back behind her ear. She holds very still while you do, biting her lip, eye tracking your hand, like someone who’s just had a butterfly land on them.

“What do you want to do when we get home?” she asks, trying to sound nonchalant. She has a particular voice she uses whenever she does this, a sort of softer voice where she very obviously pretends not to care about the answer. You haven’t let on that she does this yet and you’re not sure if you will.

You shrug. “I haven’t really thought about it yet,” you grin. “I’ve been…enjoying the moment.”

Undyne smiles at you then stops herself quickly. She gets like this sometimes, so bashful and unsure of herself that if you didn’t know her so well you’d think that there was something wrong, but it just means she trusts you. If she didn’t like you she’d treat you with the same gruff demeanor that she gives everyone else; that went away after the first month.

“Yeah,” she says quietly, the smile playing at the corners of her lips, hidden but winking at you. “I have been too.”

“Did you have something you wanted to do?” you ask. You reach out and take her hand, run your fingers along her knuckles. She twitches lightly, looks down at your hand, clasps your fingers in hers.

“I was thinking,” she says in that same faux-casual voice, “we could get out of these fancy clothes and get into bed and never get out again.” She started off very composed but as soon as she broke into the second half of the sentence her words strung together in her excitement. She sits there, gripping your hand tightly, leaning forward like she’s sharing a secret. Her eyes are wide and bright and earnest and if it weren’t for all the people around you’d have pounced over the table and smothered her with kisses already – she loves it when you attack her like that, so whenever she comes home you lay in wait for her and grab her tightly around her waist, kiss your way up her neck, smell her hair (like sugar and pepper). She’s almost stopped jumping when you do it, too.

“I like that idea,” you tell her, and her smile is so bright that the lights in the restaurant might as well have gone out.

 

When you leave the restaurant, hand in hand, Undyne lacing her arm beneath yours and clinging onto you, kissing your shoulder gently, there are clouds gathering in the night sky. You look up apprehensively.

“I didn’t think it was going to rain,” you say. She hasn’t been paying attention, glances up quickly.

“It might not,” she murmurs as the first drops start to fall. She starts and wipes her face and stares at you for a split second with such a comical expression of shock that you burst out laughing and then she starts too, a long guttural burble like a brook was chuckling along with you. “Okay,” she says when she catches her breath, “how dumb did I look?”

“You never look dumb,” you tell her, pulling her in, kissing the top of her head. She squirms against you and she’s smiling so wide you can feel her teeth against your chest. The rain is getting harder; you look up and get a faceful. “We’d better get going,” you tell her. “I don’t want your dress to get ruined.”

She laughs again, spins you around, presses you against the side of the building. “Fuck the dress,” she tells you, very seriously. The moon is shining halfway onto her face and her eyes glint in the darkness. She shakes her hair out and runs a hand through it, pulls it back from her eyes. The water’s trickling down and she grins at you. Her dress is already soaked; you can make out her round, firm breasts even in the dark, and she laughs when she sees you glance downward. She presses herself into you and kisses you deeply, knitting her fingers through your hair and pulling you in, trying to press every available inch against you. She is blazing warm and the feeling is nice; you’d already been starting to shiver from the cold rain. “Fuck the dress,” she repeats, whispering throatily in your ear. “Let’s walk home slow.”

She grabs your hand and leads you off into the night. If it were anyone else you might feel a little cold and miserable, but when you’re with her you feel capable of anything – anything except dragging your eyes away from her, her long mane of brilliant red hair, her lean body flowing next to you, walking backwards sometimes so she can look at you and smile in pleasure, her long long legs, that ass, those thighs ah - !

Right before you get home you wrap your arms around her waist. “I love you,” you murmur.

“I know,” she laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> I remember the request for this one because it was so specific, and because I totally forgot about it when I was writing, and the point that 'you' forgot your umbrella or whatever it was got completely glossed over. This is probably the turning point where I started getting comfortable with Undyne as a character and all of her little idiosyncrasies started to fall in place in my head. I'm still very pleased with just how fleshed-out I was (and still am, I guess) able to make her as a character. The biggest challenge, when you're writing stuff like this, is to make the characters really live, and if I had to judge myself on it I'd say I did a pretty stellar job in a lot of these stories, but it really just depends on how much you can immerse yourself in the character.


End file.
